Immigrants
by Stage and ToT
Summary: What do you suppose are the after-effects of the sell-off? And the final installment of "Immigrants" is uploaded. Come on, you knew this day would come. ^^
1. Stage and ToT

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  Lady owns Slingshot/ToT.

**Opening Comments: **I recently became a Newsies fan…3 days ago, actually.  Whe~, thanks Lady!  Anyways, I bought myself the DVD, I already write fanfiction for other stuff so, why not?

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

"Oi, do we really have to do this?" A teenage girl asked, looking at the newsboy cap in her hand.  Her dark brown hair was twisted up upon her head and she wore the usual dress of a paper-seller.  A thick accent hung in her voice of German portrayal. _[AN: Pst, in other words, she has a German accent!]_

"Don't complain, ToT." Another girl said, struggling to gather her short and light brown back into a pigtail.  Finally satisfied, she tugged a cap onto her head.  Her voice held a slightly different European intonation.  This one was plainly Italian. "At least we found good work…"

ToT shot her an indignant look.  "Being forced to conceal our gender does not strike me as 'good work'."

The other shrugged as began a search for her shoes around the incredibly small apartment.  She was halfway under the bed before ToT came up with a new complaint about their situation.

"And what about this place we're staying in, huh?" She asked, throwing up her arms.  "Isn't it a bit _small_ for us?"

"Being an orphaned immigrant doesn't exactly hand you the best credit." Came the muffled reply.  "Where are my shoes?"

"Next to the door.  There's only one bed!"

"So we'll switch off."

"This is _not_ what I expected the 'land of opportunity' to be." ToT grumbled, plopping down on the bed.  "What makes you think they'll treat us like one of their own?"

"Guess we'll have to adapt a New York accent." The girl replied, coming back with her shoes in hand.  "The glass is half full."

"Half empty, Stage.  We're not going to be able to pull off a New York accent." ToT replied, sternly.  Stage sighed in defeat.

"Guess you're right…at least you're better off than I am.  Loads of people think the Italians are worthless parasites who drive honest-working people out of work.  At least the German people can do stuff."

"'Stuff'.  You astound me with your words." ToT replied with a laugh.  Stage whacked her across the head.  "Hey, watch it.  It took me forever to get my hair up like this!"

"_Prende il suo obiettivo su, perra_." Stage replied, tying up her shoes.  ToT grinned at the insult and pulled her shoes on as well.  The two left the small apartment and headed to pick up their newspapers.

"Suppose they see through our disguise?" Stage asked, nudging ToT in the ribs.  She pause for a moment in thought.

"Then we run like hell."

"Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the brain of this operation."

"What, and I'm the brawns?  Hardly."

"Look, there's the boys from the boarding house." ToT said as a large group of boys walked up to the newspaper gate.  "Well, here goes nothing, eh?"

"I don't know about nothing…"

"Just go inside, idiot."

****

"Hey, Jack," Racetrack said, hitting the taller teen in the back.  "It looks like we have a couple of new Newsies around here."

Jack turned to look where Racetrack had indicated.  Sure enough, two strange boys were approaching.  Short ones, too.  The taller one wasn't even halfway up to being six feet.  Jack hopped off the platform and approached the two.

"New here?" He asked them.  The two exchanged glances that clearly stated "Idiot".  Jack waited patiently for the answer.  "Do you not know if you're new?"

"You the leader?" One asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I guess you could call me that.  Why?" 

"Where's the papes?" The other demanded.

"Not from around these parts, are you?"

"Naw!" They chorused in an awful Brooklyn accent.

"Right this way." Jack said with a sweep of his arm.  He led the way up the ramp and towards the grate of the distribution office.  "Weasel, a hundred papes each for these two."

"We can pay our own way, _huere_."

"Why don't you two tell me your names?"

"Yours first."

"All right, fair enough.  The name's Jack Kelly."

"Stage." Stage said.  Jack spit in his hand and held it out.  Stage looked down at it for a moment, eyebrows shooting up his forehead.  "Lovely way to spread disease, Jack."

"Er…right…what about you, shortie?"

"Call me that again and I'll kill you."

"What's your name?"

"Forgot."

"Ok, Forgot."

"No, damn it!"

"'No damn it'?"

He looked ready to kill.  Stage intervened quickly.

"His name is…uh…well, tell them."

"Slingshot, thank you." 

"All right, Slingshot and Stage.  This is Mush, Racetrack, Blink, Boots, Dave, Les, Dutchy, and Specs.  You can get to know the rest later."

"Indeed?" Slingshot asked in a rather sarcastic tone.  Stage was eyeing Specs oddly.  Specs blinked a few times and glanced over at Dutchy.  Dutchy shrugged his shoulders and Slingshot hit Stage in the stomach with his stack of papers.  Stage cleared his throat, smiled, and juggled the papers into his arms.

"Sorry." He murmured to Slingshot.

"Ready for me to show you two the ropes?"

"What ropes?" Stage asked.

"I think we can manage, Jackie-boy." Slingshot said flatly.  "Let's go, Stage."

"Bye y'all." Stage said with a malicious wink.  The two hopped off the platform and headed out the gates.  

"Those two are the strangest I've ever met." Jack muttered, turning to get his papers.  

****

"'What ropes'?!  Honestly, Stage.  You just love to make a fool of yourself, don't you?" ToT scolded once they were out of earshot.  "And the way you were oogling Dutchy."

"Specs." Stage corrected absentmindedly.

"Whatever.  One of the ones with glasses." ToT said, dismissing the subject with a wave of her hand.  "Any good headlines?"

"Eh.  Unless you want to spice up an oil spill in the Washington territory.  Ruined all the fur trapper's pelts." Stage replied, her nose buried in the paper.

"Wonderful." ToT pointed to a crowd.  "Let's spilt up in there."

"All right." Stage said.  "Good luck."

********

Okay, the Italian phrase that Stage says basically means "Get your ass up, bitch."  What Slingshot calls Jack is German for "Bitch".  Don't try pronouncing it…quite difficult.  Dirty-mouthed children these two are, eh?

Please review, this is our first Newsies fic.


	2. "I don't like boys..."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  

**Opening Comments: **Wait, wait.  I have to straighten this out.  I (Stage) have been a Newsie fan for a bout a week.  ToT has been for like, two years.

**Explanation: **ToT is the same person as Slingshot.  Slingshot is just her coverup when she's "a guy" so to speak.  Yes, Stage and ToT are a **little** Mary Sue-ish…well, until you hit s'other chapters.  XD XD This is really more what we'd LIKE to see happen.  But, yes…they do hold some of our own traits.  Any good author does that.

Shout Outs~ 

**Skitch: **XD We all have those.  Dun worry…Dutchy ish in this quite a bit.

**Dragon:** We don't do clichés.  Don't worry about it.  As for the only being a Newsie fan for 3 days, bite me.  Ya gotta start **somewhere**.  

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

"So Specs," Dutchy said, jogging up to walk next to his friend.  "Seen the way that Stage looked at you.  I think he likes you."

"I don't like boys, Dutchy."  Specs replied.

"You like me, don't you?"

"Not like that!"

"It's never too late to start."

"Are you implying that I should like you?"

"Naw, I say go after Stage."

"Dutchy, go soak your head, huh?"

"Did you two see those new guys?" Blink asked, jumping in between Specs and Dutchy.  Out of absolutely _no where_. Specs was—needless to say—offended.

"How much did you hear?!" He demanded.

"Enough." Blink replied.  "Right, Mush?"

"Yep!"  Dutchy and Specs jumped as Mush's voice came from directly behind them.  "Those two have sort of a 'pretty boy' look about them, huh?"

"Hm, feminine guys…" Dutchy mused.  "I suppose if you did a little imagining—"

"Stop, stop, stop, STOP!" Specs yelled, storming away.

"Looks like we've upset him." Dutchy chuckled.

"But on that tweaking issue," Mush began, grinning like a maniac and his eyes twinkling with mischief.  "Which one'd be cuter?" 

"I don't believe we're even imagining this!" Blink exclaimed.

"Imagining what?" Racetrack asked joining them from an alley.

"Which of those new guys would be cuter if they were girls." Mush told him.  Racetrack folded his arms and reflected for a moment.

"Well, this _is_ an interesting topic." Racetrack paused again.  "I don't know.  That Sling's a bitch…the other's just odd."

"Well yeah!  But which'd be cuter?"

"Is that all you think about, Mush?"

"Pretty much."

Racetrack walked off shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. 

"Dutchy, you're straight, aren't you?" Blink asked suddenly serious.  Dutchy looked scandalized and his mouth dropped open in  shock.

"Yeah!"  He sputtered. 

"Hey, doesn't hurt to check." Blink said, holding up his hands.

"Arent you?" 

"Yeah." Blink replied.  Dave approached Mush and the two who were still debating.

"Are guys ok?  You just kind of stopped walking."

"Are you straight?!" The two chorused, turning an accusing glare on Dave.  Dave faltered and blinked rapidly.

"Uh…"

"He isn't!" Dutchy exclaimed.  "I'm not sleeping in the same room with you ever again!"

"You don't…have to…" Dave replied, slowly.  "And I think you two have been sneaking drinks."

"He has a point, you know." Blink said.

"About the drinks?" Mush spoke up.

"We've been drinking?  Since when?" Dutchy asked, bewildered. 

"I think you three need sleep…" Dave mumbled.  

"We weren't playing poker!" Mush shouted.  "Not last night anyway!"

"You guys talk loud." Slingshot snapped.  All four jumped and whirled around, looking as though they had been caught doing something they shouldn't be doing.  Slingshot and Stage had identical accusing glares on their faces.

"Pst, how much do you suppose they heard?" Mush asked.

"It couldn't have been _that_ bad." Dave mumbled out the side of his mouth.  "We were just talking about drinks and poker."

"Errrrm…not quite." Blink said nervously.

"Oh?" Stage asked.  "What else, then?" 

"Uh…," Dutchy did some quick thinking.  "Manly stuff."

"Well, we're all men here." Slingshot pointed out.  _Well, sort of…_

There was an awkward silence as the four newsies thought desperately for an excuse.  Stage waited patiently with his arms folded.  Slingshot, on the other hand, was looking quite impatient.

"Dinnertime!" Mush yelled suddenly.  Slingshot and Stage both looked up to the sun.

"What are you talking about?  It isn't even _noon_ yet." Slingshot replied.  They both looked back to the street where the boys had been standing just in time to see them jump over a wall and out of sight.

****

This is probably one of the funniest chapters so far.  Heh, we're currently working on part seven.  XD 

**Review!**


	3. "Newsies are bad liars..."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  

**Opening Comments: **This chapter is like chapter 2, except it follows Stage and ToT.

Shout Outs~ 

**Dragon: **^^ I'm not offened, don't worry.  I'm a bit of a sarcastic person.

**Skitch: **XD  The fedex commercials?  I don't think I've seen the one you're talking about…

**Bluehag: **Five times, eh?  We're glad you liked it so much.  Don't worry, more humor to come!

**Dreamcoat, Gavvygirl, and martini: **Whe~!  Glad y'all thought it was funny.

**Explanation: **ToT is the same person as Slingshot.  Slingshot is just her coverup when she's "a guy" so to speak.

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

"Extra, extra!  Oil spill in Washington territory, lives at stake!" ToT yelled as she expertly weaved her way through the crowds of people.  She sold a paper here and there and then spotted Stage.

"Hey, Stage!  How's the paper-selling?" 

"Eh, its all right." Stage replied.  "How many do you have left?"

"Mm…" ToT counted her papers.  "'Bout fifteen…you?"

"Twenty."

"This is slow work…" ToT complained as they emerged from the crowd and skirted around the edges.

"Stop, stop, stop, STOP!" A familiar voice yelled from across the square.  ToT and Stage both turned.  Dutchy, Blink, and Mush were all laughing as Specs stormed off.  Dutchy said something they didn't quite catch so the two crept closer.

"…On that tweaking issue, which one'd be cuter?" Mush's voice asked.  ToT and Stage exchanged confused glances.

"What are they?  Gay?" ToT hissed.

"The sweet ones are gay, the quiet ones are freaks, and the pretty ones were busily admiring themselves when the brains were passed out." Stage replied.

"What the hell's that suppose to mean?"

"I don't believe we're even imagining this!" Blink's voice came next.

"Men are weird."

"Duh. Shall we listen?"

"Why not."

Footsteps on cobblestone… "Imagining what?" asked Racetrack.

"Which of those new guys would be cuter if they were guys." Mush told him.  There was a pause.

"Did he…just say what I _think_ he did?" Stage demanded.

"Iiicckkk…" ToT complained, twitching.

"Well, this _is_ an interesting topic.  I don't know.  That Sling's a bitch…the other's just odd."

"Damn straight!" 

"Shh!"

"Haha, odd one."

"Oh, shut up."

"Well yeah!  But which'd be cuter?" Mush said.

"Is that all you think about, Mush?" Asked Racetrack.

"Pretty much."

"Never going 'round him again." Slingshot mumbled.  There were footsteps heading away on cobblestone.

"Dutchy, you're straight, aren't you?" Came Blink's serious voice.  There was a long silence.

"Suppose he died from shock?" Stage asked.

"We can only hope."

"Heh."

"Yeah!" Dutchy exclaimed.

"Hm.  Damn."

"Hey, doesn't hurt to check." Blink replied.

"Aren't you?" 

"Yeah." Blink replied.  More footsteps.

"Are guys ok?  You just kind of stopped walking." Came Dave's voice.

"Are you straight?!" Dutchy and Blink chorused.

"Uh…"

"He isn't!" Dutchy exclaimed.  "I'm not sleeping in the same room with you ever again!"

"You don't…have to…" Dave replied, slowly.  "And I think you two have been sneaking drinks."

"He has a point, you know." Blink said.

"About the drinks?" Mush spoke up.

"We've been drinking?  Since when?" Dutchy asked. 

"I think you three need sleep…" Dave mumbled.  

"We weren't playing poker!" Mush shouted.  "Not last night anyway!"

"You guys talk loud." Slingshot snapped, coming out.  Stage quickly followed him.  The looks on the boys faces were priceless.  Stage snorted in an effort to hide laughter while Slingshot frowned deeply to hide his own smile.

The boys, now looking rather panicked made some excuse and scurried off.  

"Newsies are bad liars, eh?" ToT asked.

"They're cute when they stutter…well, some of them."

"Uh huh."

"You're not exactly a good liar yourself."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"It means I can see through that front of yours." Stage grinned.  "And I'm hungry."

"Don't change the subject, I don't care." ToT snapped.

"You will once you starve to death.  You're already skin and bones." She commented, poking ToT.  ToT batted away her hand with mock annoyance.

"All right, Pig.  Let's go eat."

"Don't call me that.  I'll beat you up!"

"No you wont."

"Yeah, you're right.  I wont."

"I'm always right!"

"Debatable.  What do you want to eat?"

"Lets go catch up with the guys and see if they know of any good places." ToT said.  Stage smirked at her.  "No!  No!  Not like that!"

"Uh huh.  Sure, ToT."  Stage replied.  "Look, they went this way."

****

Stay tuned!


	4. "Ouch, that cobblestone's painful..."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  

**Opening Comments: **

**Explanation: **ToT is the same person as Slingshot.  Slingshot is just her cover-up when she's "a guy" so to speak.

Shout Outs~ 

**Skitch: **XD I still really don't see how they remind you of the FEDEX commercial.  I'll have to read over that chapter.  Er, careful not to scratch Dutchy's glasses…

Bluehag: ^^;; Heh… 

**dragon: **Hm, I'll take a look at the dialogue and see if I can't fix it…

**Rabbit: **Indeed it is odd.  Did I mention we were on Port Wine Cheese, Sunkist, and crackers?

**dreamcoat: **Thanks!

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

"Woo.  That was a close one, eh?" Blink said, stopping to rest.  "Since when do they sell there?"

"They don't.  They're new, genius.  Remember?" Dutchy replied.  Mush plopped down on the cobblestone and sighed.  Dave leaned against a wall and ran his fingers through his hair. "We'll have to be careful when we're talking about things they shouldn't overhear."

"What did you guys do this time?" Specs asked, getting up from the fence he was perched on.  He walked over and the color drained from four faces.  Dave looked to Mush who looked up at Dutchy, who then glanced at Blink.

"Well see, the thing is…" Mush began, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.  "We were kinda talking still after you left…"

"You know, about which guy was cuter.  Er, if they were _female_ that is." Dutchy added quickly.  

"Yeah, and…?"

"You musta've caught their attention when you stormed off, Spec." Blink said, cautiously.  "Because they kind of overheard the things we were sayin'."

"They didn't hear _before_ that, did they?" Specs asked.

"Don't think so." Dave told him.  "It didn't seem like they knew about it anyway." 

"Can you help me up, Specs?" Mush asked, holding out his hand.  Specs took it and hauled him to his feet.  "Hey thanks, pal." 

"No problem." He replied.

"Oof!" Blink cried out.  Specs started to turn around before a body slammed into him. 

"ACK!" He yelled, struggling against the headlock he was in.  Specs and Blink barely heard the hysterical laughter from Dutchy, Mush, and Dave. 

"Heya, Blink." Slingshot said.  Blink's head swiveled to look at him, with _both_ eyes.  The patch was now halfway up his forehead.  "Hey!  You really do have an eye.  Nice selling tactic there, kid." He said.

"Shh, you crazy idiot!  This is my selling area." Blink hissed, pulling the patch back down and shoving Slingshot off him.  

"Get off!" Specs exclaimed, struggling out of the hold and throwing Stage to the ground in the progress.  "Are you insane?"

"Pretty much." Stage replied, standing up.  "Ouch, that cobblestone's painful.  I'll have a bruise there." 

"Didn't you know, Specs?  Italians are a little crazy." Slingshot told him, making the motion towards his head.  "Little messed up in here." [1]

"Make good food, though." Stage insisted. 

"Speaking of food," Slingshot interrupted.  "We need to get some.  Know any good places?"

"You could have just _asked,_ you know." Specs muttered, rubbing his neck.

"You really don't have to attack us." Blink added, still adjusting the eye patch of his.  "But yeah.  Tibby's is good."

"Let's roll!" Stage exclaimed, punching the sky.  The boys exchanged glances, sighed, and led the way.

****

"Nice place." Slingshot commented looking around.

"I don't care how it looks, where's the food?" Stage whined as his stomach growled.  "Ooh!  Let's sit here!"

"How often is he like this?" Blink asked.  "Stage certainly has a lot of energy."

"He's like this all the time." Slingshot complained.  "At least you didn't have to be on a boat with him, or _live_ with him."

"You're no picnic, either." Stage shot back.

"You could live with us at the boarding house." Dutchy suggested and he pulled out his chair and sat down.  "All the Newsies in Manhattan are there."

"No thanks!" Stage and Slingshot chorused.

"Uh, I mean…we have a nice place and…" Slingshot started a cover-up.

"We don't like crowds—" Stage added, picking up on it.

"—to live in, that is—"

"—We're quite comfortable.  Really!"

"…" All four newsies waited in silence to see if they were done or not.

"Oh, look!  Foods here!" Stage exclaimed, breaking the awful silence and taking the boy's thoughts off their hasty decline of boarding.  Slingshot was _very_ interested in his coleslaw and pork chops.  Stage was absorbed in digging the croutons out of his salad and eating them.

"Hey, there you are boys." Racetrack said, coming into the restaurant with Boots and Jack.  "Spot's asked us to drop by Brooklyn today with the new ones." 

"Says he wants to see the 'fresh meat', so speak." Jack said, looking at the two.  Stage grinned, croutons forgotten and Slingshot smiled as well as he shoveled a forkful of pork chops into his mouth.

****

[1] **Stage: **SERIOUSLY!  Italians are like, naturally wacky.  I'm little strange myself, but you should meet my Dad and Grandmother.  XD  


	5. "This day cannot get any worse..."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  

**Opening Comments: **GUESS WHAT Y'ALL!  As of today (1/31) ToT and I have finished off the remaining chapters.  There are now nine total.  KEEP REVIEWING!

Shout Outs~ 

**Dreamsock: **XD XD Thank you!  The eye quote really isn't my favorite…mine's, well…it's in chapter nine.  I don't want to spoil anything!

**Skitch: **I see where your coming from with the FEDEX.  XD  Oh, and about that sentence credit thing…its all right.  For some reason my whole review didn't register.  _::Stabs FF.net::_

**Bluehag: **CROUTONS!  WOO!  *cough* Anyways…I've seen people with curls run their finger through their hair.  Hm.  Really, its just a symbolic thing to show that they're deep in though or something. _::shrugs::_

**Dreamcoat: **Something funny in front of Spot? Hm…I don't know if its what you'd call _funny_ but…welll, you'll see. ^.~****

**DxInsider: **Fresh meat = nickname for freshman.  ^^

**Explanation: **ToT is the same person as Slingshot.  Slingshot is just her cover-up when she's "a guy" so to speak.

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

"This way." Boots led the way across the bridge.  Next, it went Jack and Dave; Mush and Blink; Specs and Dutchy; and Slingshot and Stage.  "Spot's territory is over this way.  And be sure not to mouth off."

"Yeah, that's Davey's job." Jack said, whacking Dave on the back.  Dave grinned.

"So what's this Spot like?" Slingshot asked boredly, looking around with half-lidded eyes.  "Is he worth talking to?"

"Deadly with a slingshot." Boots said.

"What?!"

"No, a _slingshot_!  Like the actual item…not you." 

"Thank God." Slingshot murmured.  Next to him, Stage snickered.  "Shut up, ya bum."

"We almost there?" Stage asked, smothering a yawn.

"Yes, are you tired?" Dutchy asked.

"No." He replied sarcastically.

"What do you want me to do?  Carry you?" Specs asked, half demanding.

"It'd be nice." Stage muttered in a barely audible tone.  Too bad the others heard him.  Dutchy raised his eyebrows at Specs who glared back.  Blink stifled a laugh, Mush's face split into a grin, and Dave rolled his eyes.

"I'll throw you off the bridge, Dutch." Specs snarled.

"Yes!" Slingshot exclaimed.  Dutchy sent an mock hurt glance over his shoulder at Slingshot.

"That hurts, Sling."

"Don't call me 'Sling', Blondie."

"Don't call me 'Blondie'."

"I'll do whatever I want!"

"Keep moving." Stage said annoyed, pushing Slingshot along.

"My feet hurt!"

"Now its _both _of you?" Jack looked ready to scream.  "Look, its that pier over there, so move!  Understand me?"

"Yeah, we got ya, Jackie-boy.  There's no need to shout." Stage muttered.  The troop trekked down to the pier and threaded their way through the Brooklyn newsies.  Spot met them halfway across the pier.  He and Jack did the spit handshake.

"Well, these are the new ones." Jack said, motioning towards Stage and Slingshot.  Slingshot's mouth hung slightly open as he gawked at Spot.  Spot raised his eyebrows at him.  Stage hit Slingshot across the head.

"Sorry, what?" Slingshot promptly replied.  "I drifted off for a second there."

"Uh huh…drifted, eh?  More like swam." Spot replied.  "Immigrants, Jack?"

"Damn straight." Stage replied.

"My feet hurt." Slingshot complained, sitting on a pier post.  Stage was satisfied to sit on the pier deck.  

"Those aren't very…" Spot began.  There was a loud crack and the post started to fall backwards.  Slingshot's eyes resembled saucers and Stage and Spot leaped forward, trying to grab him off it.  Stage missed but Spot didn't.  Unfortunately, he went down into the water _with_ Slingshot.

"Oh no…" Stage mumbled.  "This is bad, this is very bad!"

"Why?  Can't he swim?"  Dutchy asked, peering over the edge into the dark waters below.  

"Uh, no." Stage replied, doing a little quick-thinking.

"Don't worry about it…Spot's down there.  He'll get him." Mush assured Stage, patting him on the back.

_That's what I'm afraid of…_ Stage thought.

After a few seconds, Spot surfaced, his hair plastered in wild directions.  There were several large bubbles and Slingshot came up, gasping for air.  Spot turned to help him…and gawked.  As did the other boys on the pier.  Except Stage, who was wincing.  

"Holy Sweet Jesus!" Jack sputtered.  Slingshot was visibly embarrassed.  His cap had floated away and his hair had fallen down.  Frankly, it revealed that he was a she.  The wet shirt didn't help much, either.  Slingshot was quite glad she had worn a dark green shirt that day. 

"Spot, 'mind bringing her up?" Stage called down.  "Spot?  SPOT!  Don't make me come down there!"

"What?  Sorry." Spot replied awkwardly.  He swam towards the ladder, Slingshot doggy-paddling behind.  The two climbed back up onto the pier and Stage gave her a towel he had snatched from another Brooklyn newsie. 

"Its _cold_!" Slingshot exclaimed. 

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Jack demanded.

"Jack, why don't you go soak your head?" Stage snapped, shoving him into the water.  "He can swim, right?" He asked as an afterthought.

"Should be able to." Spot replied.  Sure enough, Jack came up thrashing and pulled himself back up onto the pier.  Spot handed him a towel.

"Well, we'd better get back to Manhattan so she can change." Stage said, heading off.  Blink grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back.

"Not until we get an explanation."

"Yeah, yeah.  After we get back, huh?  She'll catch her death of cold."

"Stage, can I ask you a serious question?" Specs asked.

"Shoot."

"Do you like boys?"

Stage visibly faltered at the question.  Slingshot snickered.

"I'm not gay if that's what you're getting at." He replied after a few moments.  "Are we going back to Manhattan or what?"

Stage strode off down the pier, the others and Spot following closely behind.

****

The group reached Manhattan soon after.  Slingshot had somehow convinced Spot to carry her for the rest of the trip.  Blink and Specs were holding up a practically dead-on-his-feet Stage.

"All right, Stage.  Where's the place you're stayin'?" Boots asked, looking around at all the buildings.  

"It's that one." Stage mumbled, covering a yawn with one hand.  "Room three, second story."  

"I have to carry this thing up the stairs?!" Spot demanded.

"Who're you calling 'this thing'?!" Slingshot shot back.

"Ok, come on.  I'll lead." Stage said, shrugging off the help of the other two.  He climbed up the narrow staircase, Spot following with the rest in the rear in case he toppled over backwards with the extra cargo in his arms.

"You can drop us off at the door." Stage told them.  When they reached the door Spot put down Slingshot and they all said their goodbyes.  Stage unlocked the door and staggered in.  she threw the keys across the room along with her shoes.

"I'll be in the bathroom.  I'd like to take a bath after that stupid river." Slingshot said, disappearing into the bathroom.  

"Uh huh." Stage replied.  "Ew, gross…oil." She said looking down at her shirt.  Stage decided to soak the shirt and sleep in her undershirt.  She dropped the soiled shirt in a basin of water and collapsed on the bed.

_This day cannot get any worse. _Stage thought as she drifted off to sleep. 

****

Of course, she just jinxed it so we all know that it _will._


	6. “’Course it’s a good idea.”

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  

**Opening Comments: **u_u We are nearing the end, my friends.  Immigrants is a total of nine chapters, two more after this one.  Keep reviewin'!

Shout Outs~ 

**Dragon: **Let's think about this, tho.  If you were a newsie and one of your friends turned out to be a member of the opposite sex, what would _you_ do? XD  Personally, I'd flip out.

**Skitch: **No, Stage and ToT never said they were girls.  Thanks for the suggestion, but it's a kinda cliché-ish line. ^.~

**Bluehag: **^^ Just wait 'till you see how worse we can make our days.  BWAHA!

**Rae Kelly and DxInsider:  **Thank you!

**Dreamsock: **You probably don't remember, but Stage (in chapter 1) put her hair back into a ducktail.  So…taking off the hat might not help.  ^^;

**Dreamcoat:** Uh…you're welcome…?

**Bam: **Heh, thanks.  No, the boys aren't gay…why do you ask?

**Explanation: **ToT is the same person as Slingshot.  Slingshot is just her cover-up when she's "a guy" so to speak.

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

Boots, Spot, Jack, Dutchy, Mush, Dave, Blink, and Specs sat around at Tibby's, discussing the days events.  It had been an hour since they had dropped Stage and Slingshot off at the place where they were staying.

"Think they feeling better?" Dave asked.

"That Slingshot was rather disgruntled from being wet." Spot replied calmly as he took a bite of his sandwich.  "Stage seemed to be half asleep by the time we got back."

"Big day, I suppose." Blink said.  "I had to drag Stage up the stairs."

"'Up the stairs'? 'Up the stairs'?!" Specs demanded, sending an annoyed glace in Blink's direction.  "Try all the way home."

"I wonder if they're together…" Mush mused.  All seven dropped their forks with a clatter and fixed him with a weird look.

"Is that all you think about?" Boots asked.

"I answered this question already."

"Does it matter if they're together or not?" Jack asked.

"I want to know." Mush whined.  "Lets go!"

"No!" They all groaned.

"Go by yourself." Dutchy told him.

"Can't.  I don't remember where the place is." He said with a shrug.  The others groaned and dished out payment for their separate pieces of food.  A particularly happy Mush led the way out of Tibby's, soon to be replaced by Spot who remembered the route.

****

"Stage?  Slingshot?" Mush asked, knocking on the door.  Getting no reply, he tested the knob.  

"Mush!  We shouldn't just _walk in_." Dave hissed.

"Shouldn't, but we are." He replied with a shrug.  Mush pushed the door open and walked in, followed closely by the others.  "Stage?  Slingshot?"

"Hm?" Came a sleepy voice from the bed.  Stage sat up and stretched.  Upon seeing who had walked in the door, he froze.  Stage fell backwards off the bed with a thud.  "What are you _doing_ here?!"

"Uhhum, did we walk in the wrong room?" Mush stammered.  "Spot!  I thought you knew the way!"

"I do.  This is the right room." He snapped.

"Get _out!_" Stage shrieked, pitching a paperweight at the group.  

"Ack!" 

"Look out!"

"Ouch!"

"Out, out, _OUT_!" Stage yelled continuing to throw things.  The boys fled the room and slammed the door behind them.

"Well, Mush.  Get the answer you wanted?" Blink asked.

"More than one." He said in a sulky tone, rubbing the spot where the paperweight had hit.  "What the hell is going on?  I thought they said they weren't gay!"

"They did.  Meaning they 'like boys', idiot." Dutchy told him.  "Field's clear for you, eh Specs?"

"Shut up, big mouth." Specs answered, pushing him roughly.  "I'll send you down the stairs."

"You just try it!"

"Cut it out, you two." Jack cut in.  

"So…they're _both_ girls?" Dave asked, quietly.  There was a silence as the others looked at him with half-closed eyes.

"Good, Davey." Blink replied, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Hm, goil Newsies…think of the possibilities, would ya?" Mush said with a freakishly huge grin upon his face.

"If you guys are _done_…" Snapped a voice from the doorway.  The boys turned around to see Slingshot in much dryer clothes.  

"Youse gots some explainin' to do, Slingshot." Jack said.

"It ain't Slingshot anymore." She replied.  "My real name's ToT."

"ToT rhymes with Spot!" Dutchy exclaimed.

"Watch your back in Brooklyn, Dutchy." Spot growled.

"Back upon the subject…we deserves an explanation." Jack interrupted, yet again.  "Like whys you two told us youse was boys."

"We didn't _tell_ you," Stage replied coming into view, still blushing, and buttoning up the last few buttons on a clean shirt.  "You _assumed_ we were because we 'walked the walk and talked the talk'."

"But why the cover-up?"

"Why do you think, Jackie-boy?" ToT shot back.  "You think we would have gotten a fair deal on papes otherwise?  Men tend to think women are gullible."

"Not that y'all are better paper sellers than us, you understand." Stage added.  

"What's that supposed to mean?" Boots asked.  "We've been doing this all our lives.  Youse just came in."

"We've got secret weapons, you know." ToT replied.  "Like charm, good looks, sweet talk…" She started counting off on her fingers.

"All right, all right.  Hows 'bout this, then?" Jack said, pushing to the front where he towered over the two girls.  "A sell-off.  We divide into teams and whoever sells the most papes tomorrow is the better seller."

"You're on, Jackie-boy." Stage replied, raising herself to her full height…which still didn't account for much compared to him.  "Me and ToT on one team, you pick another newsie for yours."

"Fine.  Blink, you're with me.  Tomorrow, at the distribution office.  One hundred papes, whoever's done first wins."

"See you." ToT announced, slamming the door.

"Jack, you sure this is such a good idea?" Blink asked in a low voice.  

"'Course it's a good idea." Jack replied without a second thought.  "We need plenty of sleep tonight.  Lets go."

****

**Closing Comments: **Stage and ToT + Sell-off = Not good.  XD Next chapters are full of insane-ish stuffies.


	7. “He’s lying.”

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  

**Opening Comments: **^^ Whe~, we are such review junkies.

Shout Outs~ 

**DxInsider and dreamcoat: **Thank you!

**Bam: **Dontcha just love Dutchy?  ^_^

**Bluehag: **^^; 'Twasn't really a flashing.  Stage was just in her undershirt that…showed _certain things_ a little _better_ than that overlarge button-down she usually wore.  If you know what I mean. XD

**Skitch: **Sounds like you're friends, eh?  You don't walk into apartment unannounced, do you? XD

**Fastdancr:** Talent? XD Thanks.

**Title:** Immigrants

**Authors: **Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)

********

Jack waited at the distribution office, two stacks of a hundred papers in his arms. Blink waited beside Jack and the others behind him.  It was almost time for the competition to begin and no signs of the competitors. 

"Think theys chickened out?" Mush asked, elbowing Blink.  Blink frowned and shrugged.  Whispers passed through the crowd.

"That's them, ain't it?" Boots asked, pointing out two figures approaching the gates.

"Naw, those two are girls." Racetrack replied, lighting a cigar.  "They must have decided against competing against you, Jack."

"No, that's them, Race." Jack replied, holding up a hand to block the morning sunshine.  "Newsies showing their true colors."

"Heya, fellas." ToT greeted them, walking up in her feminine outfit.  "What ya'll starin' at?  Never seen a girl before?"

"They look like a bunch of dead fish." Stage said with a giggle.  "Close your mouths, boys.  You'll catch flies that way."

"Youse ready to go?" Jack asked.  When the two nodded, he shoved their papers at them.  "Good."

"Aw, awfully nice of you to buy our papes for us." ToT sneered.

"Whatever, just sell them.  Racetrack's stayin' back here to wait for the winner."  Jack told them.  "Of course, we all know who'll it be." 

A few Newsies snickered at Jack's comment.  ToT and Stage scowled at him.  Each boosted the newspapers to their shoulders and glared at the opposing competition.  

"All right, sell!" Racetrack yelled, waving his arm.  Blink and Jack took off.  ToT and Stage watched the two boys running furiously to claim the best selling spots.  

"Wow, lookit 'em go." Stage said, putting up a hand to block the sunlight from shining in her eyes.

"Too bad this ain't a race."

"Then we wouldn't have worn skirts, eh?"

"No, this is my best skirt."

"That's your _only_ skirt."

"Yeah, so it's my best skirt.  By default." ToT said with a shrug. Grinning, the two girls turned to the large crowd of Newsies.

"Who wants a pape?" ToT asked without her usual sarcasm.  She strolled up to Mush.  "Want one, Mush?"

"Uh…" Mush faltered.  "But—its going against Jack and Blink.  I dunno…"

"Please?" 

"Yeah, all right." Mush gave in and paid her for the paper.  Stage ducked her head to hide her laugh.  She then approached Specs.  He looked up nervously at her from his spot on the steps.  Dutchy—who was sitting on his right—grinned.

"How 'bout you?" Stage asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I don't want a papah." He replied.

"Yes, you do." Dutchy said, elbowing him sharply.

"No, I don't."

"He's lying."

"Shut up, Dutchy." Specs hissed.  

ToT came up behind Stage and whispered something in her ear.  Stage set her papers down on Specs's left and frowned to keep a smile from spreading across her face.  ToT walked away, smothering a snicker.  Stage walked up a few of the steps and sat down on Specs's lap.  He turned an interesting shade of bright red.  Specs grew even redder when Dutchy howled with laughter and fell off the steps, drawing everyone else's attention. [1]

"You sure you don't want a paper, Specs?"  Stage asked, putting her arms around his neck.  Several wolf-whistles came from the other newsies.  ToT and Mush were leaning on each other, ready to collapse from laughter.

"Fine, I'll buy a paper." Specs mumbled—his face a vivid scarlet—, pulling out the appropriate coin.  Stage took it and handed him a paper from the stack.  Dutchy had composed himself (finally) and gave Specs a whack on the back.  

"That ain't the way to treat a lady, Specsie." He said as Stage stood up and smoothed the wrinkles in his skirt.  "I'll take a pape, too."

Stage handed Dutchy a paper after he flipped her the penny.  She stuck in her skirt pocket and turned to ToT who was making similar process through the crowd.  Stage bit back a snicker as ToT sidled up next to Racetrack, her charming skills on.

"Hey, ToT…maybe we should actually go out there and make this a little more interesting, hm?" She asked, pulling a piece of lint off her long skirt.  "I mean, those two are at a default, not having certain things…"

"Too bad Jackie-boy doesn't have those things, huh?" Mush replied.  The roar of laughter was deafening after Mush's comment.  After it had died down, ToT replied to Stage's question.

"Why not, let's plunge into that crowd over there." ToT said, pointing over to a small crowd in the town square. 

****

[1] How many of you can _so_ see Dutchy doing this?  Say "I!"

**Stage: **I!

**ToT: **I!


	8. "Is that what they call it these days?"

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  **

Shout Outs~ 

**Thunderstorm, dragon, DxInsider and Fastdancr: **Thanks!

**Killersabinx: **Race kinda disappeared before they went to see Spot.  We still to the day do not know where he went.  Well, he appeared again.

**Dreamcoat: **Spot's still there.  He comes back in chapter nine.

**Bluehag: **WOO!BOSOMS!_::dances::_

**Dreamsock: **Bwaha!  We can and will stop there! XD XD

**Princessred: **Mark David is…strange looking now.  I guess being in your 30s does that to you. XD http://homepage.mac.com/jmar/newsies/cast/mark.html

**ScreamQueen: **'Dutchster'? XD You just gave us a fic idea from your review…Bwaha.

**Opening Comments: Blah…**

**Title: Immigrants**

**Authors: Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)**

********

Stage and ToT shoved their way through the crowd, yelling the headlines at the top of their lungs.

"I don't think they're going to hear us!" ToT yelled.

"What?!"  Stage yelled back.  "I can't hear a damned thing over here!"

"Come on." ToT grabbed Stage by an arm and they both found a slightly quieter spot.  "They aren't going to hear us when we're in there."

"Apparently not." Stage replied, frowning at the crowd.  "Stupid people!" She yelled shaking a fist.

"Er, I don't think that'll help." 

"Hey, do we know them?" Stage asked, pointing at two boys approaching in fedoras.  

"Are they newsies?"

"That's basically what I just asked you."

"Eh, sorry." ToT looked up towards the sun.  "Its almost noon…how many papes we got left?"

"A dozen."

"Hello there, goils." The shorter one said.

"Hey, ya wanna buy a pape?" ToT asked, doing a personality 180.

"I don't know, what'll you do for me?"

"…Give you your paper?" ToT replied after a short pause.

"Dat ain't good enough, sweet t'ing." He replied.  ToT glared up at him.

_Thwack!  He stumbled back, a large red patch on his left cheek.  ToT lowered her hand and shook it out._

"Ow…"

"You'll be sorry foi dat!  No one crosses the Delancy brudders!" 

"I think she just did." Stage replied.  "So you two are the Delancy 'brudders'?"

"Yeah.  I'm Oscar and dis is Morris." Oscar replied.  "Rememba th name.  Youse will wanna know who killed ya."

"Oh, yeah.  I'm trembling!" ToT said, doing a fake shudder.  "You don't have the balls to hit a girl." Oscar turned a crimson hue, from anger or embarrassment—it was hard to tell which.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Yous gonna be sorry you said dat!" 

"Hm.  Why does that sound so familiar?  Oh, that's right!  You already used that threat, smart one."

"Extra, extra." Stage said, walking between the two.  "Local hit man and immigrant get into fight, disrupts neighborhood!"

"Thank you, Stage." ToT said flatly.

"We can go now." Stage said, bopping ToT on the head with a rolled up paper.  "I've sold all the papes."

"What about that one?"

"Hm.  Guess I missed one.  So I'll sell it on the way home."  Stage replied.  "Come on, lets go.  We'll get a free meal at Tibby's if we win."

"I didn't hear about that."

"I'm sure we can flirt our way into it."

"Good point."

"Youse ain't goin' nowhere!" Morris snarled.  The two girls looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Watch us."

"What do youse two tink yer doin'?" Jack demanded from behind them.  Blink stood next to him, chewing on his cheek with five papers in his hand.  "Cheese it."  The Delancy's sulked away.

"You're on, ToT."  Stage said, giving her the last paper.  ToT did a sort of a salute with the rolled up paper.  She then sauntered over to Blink, smiling sweetly.  He looked down at her with wary eyes.

"Buy me last pape?" ToT asked, leaning into him.  Blink looked to Jack, wide eyed.  Jack sent him a look that distinctly said "No!" 

"Uh…er…I don't think…"

"Come on, please?"

"Blink, don't do it."

"I already have papes…"

"Not one like this."

"Kid…" Jack said in a warning tone.  ToT looked back at Stage.  

"Oh!" Stage exclaimed.  She walked up to Jack, grabbed his bandana, and pulled him away.  "Come on, Jack…I have to…uh, talk to you."

"Is that what they call it these days?" ToT called after them.

"Just because you got the good one…" Stage started, pointing.  Jack and Blink looked at each other, utterly bewildered.  Stage started walking again, Jack in tow.

"Please buy the paper?"

"Er…"

"Please Blinkie?"

"But Jack…"

****

"You don't want to buy us dinner at Tibby's?" Stage asked innocently. 

"No." Jack replied firmly.  Stage, thoroughly fed up with Jack's stubbornness, tugged sharply on his bandana.  "Ow!  What was dat fer?"

"You want me to tell Sarah you weren't a good sport?"

"Dat's a low blow, Stage."

"Agreed then?"

"Yeah, fine.  Not a word of dis to Sarah." Jack started back, but Stage pulled him back again.

"Not yet.  I'll tell you when you can go."

****

"Well, uh…um…"

_Oh just buy the damn paper! ToT screamed in her mind.  __Stupid stubborn men!  _

"…Ok…" Blink replied, great hesitance in his voice.

"Great!" ToT gave him the paper in an exchange for his penny.

****

"Ok, we can go now." Stage said, starting towards ToT and Blink.

"What happened?"

"We just won the sell-off, Jackie-boy.  When you're finished selling those five papes, come by.  We'll be waiting at Tibby's for ya."

****

**Closing Comments:** So basically, the girls didn't completely kick their butts…seeing as how they won by 5 papers.  One more chapter to go!


	9. Official Seats

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies.  All I own is Stage.  ToT/Slingshot owns herself.  **

**Opening Comments: Aw.  Here it is, folks.  The final installment.  _::runs off to cry::_**

Shout Outs~ 

**Skitch: **Yes, you sound like a roller coaster.  Congratulations.

**DreamSock: **Er, that's not exactly why we do this.  Its just that reviewers tend to leave interesting messages that you want to reply to, see? XD  Canada-speak?  Heh…

**Dreamcoat: **See the ending comments about the sequel.  And thanks about the characters.

**DxInsider: **Thanks.  We kinda needed a space-filler, so we brought out the Delancys.

**Fastdancr: **That's not really a fair thing to say about the males (^^;;;) …but yes, it happens.

**Princessred: **Reviewed out, eh?  Don't worry about it…this is the final one you'll have to review for.

**Title: Immigrants**

**Authors: Stage and ToT (partners in fic-writing crime!)**

********

The newsies headed into Tibby's, taking seats at tables all in the same vicinity.  Stage and ToT walked in, joking and laughing.  The boys couldn't quite understand what they found so funny since they both had been around each long to enough to have nothing to talk about.

"Where are we going to sit?" ToT asked, looking around at all the tables.  Stage frowned and looked around.  Stage was about to say something when she was tugged away by her wrist.  ToT blinked at the absence of her friend.

Dutchy continued to pull Stage along.  She blinked and stumbled along behind him.   He flung her into a booth and she landed on something besides the booth seat.  Stage blinked and swiveled her head around to look at a crimson-faced Specs.

"Is this just my official seat now?" Stage asked, turning back to look at Dutchy.

"If I have anything to say 'bout it." Dutchy said, sitting down on Specs right.  ToT slid in on the left.

"Which you don't!" Specs sputtered.

"Yes I do.  I'm your best friend and I's gots a say in what you do in yer life." Dutchy said with a malicious smile.  "And I says its 'bout time you got yerself a goil!"

"You don't have one!"

"At the moment, no.  'Least I's try."

"I hate you, Dutchy."

"Aw, Specs.  You know you love me.  'Sides," He said with a wink. "You'll t'ank me latah."

"And _what is that supposed to mean?" Stage demanded, turning a little pink at the comment.  ToT snickered in her seat and received two full-fledged glares.  The door to Tibby's opened and in stepped the head of Brooklyn._

"Spot!" ToT exclaimed, jumping up and running over to him.  "Save me!"  She added, hiding behind him.  Spot looked back to where she had been sitting to see a hysterical Dutchy and two very embarrassed newsies.  Spot grinned and walked back over to the table.

"Where'd you get the lap ornament, Specs?" Spot asked.  Dutchy plunged into another fit of laughter.

"Shut up!" He snapped.

"Notice he makes no attempt to push her off." ToT whispered just loud enough for the others to hear.

"Stage, get off."

"No.  There's no place else to sit."

"Fine."

"Ah, got him wrapped already?  Youse a fast woikah, Stage." Dutchy said, grinning.

"Just like a pretty present with a bow!" ToT said.  Everyone turned and looked at her funny.  "Heh, sorry…"

While this conversation was going on, Specs continued to change hues of red.  He was now a deep maroon color.  Stage patted him on the shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

Spot sat down in ToT's old seat and she turned to look for another.  Stage and Specs both reached out, grabbed the back of her shirt, and pulled.  ToT fell backwards on to Spot's lap.

"Nicely done." Stage said to Specs.

"Not bad yerself." He replied.  "Nice lap ornament, Spot."

"I t'ink so too." Spot answered.  ToT went as red—if not redder—as Specs had been.

"I'm leaving," ToT whined as she stood up.

"No, you're not," Spot said, pulling her back.  Specs, Stage, and Dutchy snickered.

"What a playah!" Blink said, jokingly.

"Hey," Mush whined.  "How come the ones with the 'S' names get lucky?"

Snaps, Skittery, and Snipeshooter all looked at each other, huge grins upon their faces.  They strolled over to the table.

"So…" Snipeshooter said.

"Can we help you?" Stage asked.

"I don't know, you tell me." Snaps replied.

"Depends on what you want help with…" ToT replied.  Skittery leaned forward on the table, propping his chin up on an elbow.  Stage and ToT leaned backwards.  Stage leaned too far and fell off Specs's lap, onto the floor with a _thud_.

"Uhm…" Specs looked down at Stage who was lying on her back with her eyes closed tightly.

"Ow!  Youse got a bony butt, ToT." Spot exclaimed with a wince.

"Likewise, Stage." Specs mumbled, helping her back up. 

"That a no?"  Skittery asked with a frown.

"Theys spoken fer." Spot replied.

"Sorry boys." ToT and Stage chorused with smirks.

THE END 

**ToT: Look!  Look!  We ended it!**

**Stage: Yes!  High five!  _::they do so.::  Hm, think we'll be asked for a sequel?_**

**ToT: Probably…but what's it gonna be about?  **

**Stage: Hm.  We could take suggestions…?**

**Stage and ToT: HINT, HINT!**

**ToT: Review, y'all!  Hope it wasn't too clich…clic…cli…**

**Stage: -.-;;  Cliché-ish.**

**ToT: Excuse my cold.  **

**Stage and ToT: _::do the "Its Over" dance::_**

Review~! 


End file.
